The relationship between the conductor of the Israel Philharmonic Orchestra , Zubin Mehta, and the Georgian classical pianist, Khatia Buniatishvili, reminds me of the Renaissance motif of Death and the Maiden, with flashing aspects of Persephone and Hades. No offense to Mehta, whose 80th birthday was celebrated at the beginning of the piece (April 11, 2016). The towering presence of the conductor as Death seems at times unable to control the overflowing super-abundance of the pianist as Love. It amuses me to hold this frame of reference in mind and watch the drama between the two unfold in a gestural language conveyed through face and hand. Note that I am certain this reading has no basis in reality and is only an exercise in figuration for my own idiosyncratic memorization purposes.
Khatia preceeds Mehta on to the stage. She is dressed in what, at first, seems a fairly conservative black dress, but later reveals itself to be quite sensual, transparently exposing the side of her hip and leg. Ever the gentleman, Mehta follows at a respectable distance behind, ascends the podium. Khatia makes a graceful bow to the audience. Mehta starts the piece with a deeply focused countenance and vigorous movements of his baton. The orchestra sounds out the initial theme, then Mehta turns to Khatia, who dramatically pounds out the huge chords with sable hair whipping around her head, a tight smile of utter mastery and confidence. Several times she looks up to Mehta as she is playing like an innocent child nurturing a frighteningly precocious talent, saying, this is nothing, easy. She lifts her face again, eyes wide, chin held up with what now might be construed as a disdainful contempt. Death is may be setting the stage and bending furious energies to structure the time, but Love knows otherwise and is patiently waiting, gathering her strength. She plays her part with perfection but adds a note of intensity, threatening, as always, to spill out over the top of the music.
With Rubinsteins' criticisms in mind, that there are parts where "even the greatest virtuoso is glad to survive unscathed," Khatia appears fearless, playing with a blurring fluidity of skill and effortless grace. At 3:38, her dramatic gesture feels as if she were returning, temporarily bestowing, the power to Mehta, whose conducting is now more restrained. Perhaps Death senses the shift in power as Love has begun to display her startling energy. I see Mehta sort of glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, as if a powerful black leopardess had suddenly manifested itself on the piano bench, unchained.
Khatia's performance gains again in intensity here she throws her head back time and again, hammering the keys, wrestling playfully with the orchestra, showing dominance. I love the sequence of her expressions from 5:09, just after her fingers have walked like restless dancing spiders over the ivory keys, her inward intensities darkening her features, then her willful return to the moment, the settling of her brow in acknowledgement that there is this musical drama to be enacted, a drama she knows she will emerge from triumphantly, her head rolling back slightly on her neck, granting presence again to the other musicians. Then, after sitting poised and proper for a moment, she begins to dutifully play her role, smiling like a good pianist (see 6:04), but then proceeds to invest the piece with an air of incipient chaos which boils up within her playing, herself popping off the bench, but never fully manifests, remaining as a dark rumbling between the notes. At 6:22, Mehta as Death with his arms down and a look of resignation on his face.
That shared look between them at 6:52 speaks volumes. Death indicating he knows she is playing the game at a higher level than he is used to or ever expected. Love gazing back with even composure. I imagine the scene when the male leopard, proudly returning with a rabbit he has just killed, sees the she leopard resting in the tree with a huge gazelle draped over the branch next to her. He is slightly winded, but now utterly deflates. She is not even noticeable breathing, her lids resting serenely over her eyes, meditating upon his weakness.
Than at 7:08, with that wry turn of the head, she takes demonstrates her full powers and strength. Death who thought he held the Maiden in his arms, now finds himself, being held against the wall by Love, who needs to teach, rather remind, him of a few things. Her self-enraptured emotionality as she performs this passage is hypnotic, like gazing upon the face of Love as Love gazes upon herself. As she finishes this meditation, she again looks up to Death and cedes time back to him. Death listens, sees, accepts his place, and the real Dance begins. At 7:47, Love finally looks upon Death with respect, with admiration, with love. She takes up her part again almost as an afterthought, quiet prefatory musical phrases of compressed musical language, now expanding under the compelling authority of Death. Khatia looks back and forth from Death to the ivory keys, her fingers dancing seeming of their own will, possessed by charged currency of the shared musical world between her and the conductor, here triumphant in time. The momentary resolution arrived at just before 9:20 feels orgasmic. Her hair now over her face, her head turned to the side but vision still momentarily occluded, the veins on her neck fashioning letters of a holy language under the luminous sheets of her skin as she weights the keys at the lightest degree to still sound. As the orchestra resumes, she composes herself beautifully, smiling towards the other musicians. Death and the Maiden uncovering unison with the other amidst the community of music.
At 10:17, listening to the woodwinds, she begins this fluttering dance over the keys, flights of birds, water over rock. Mehta seems intoxicated with musical ecstasy. The strings swirl up the musical wind. At 11:02, Khatia is watching, waiting to see what sort of cyclone they are fashioning. Mehta is alive with energy. At 11:30, she comments in kind, her hands perfected hammers, reestablishing her own time within the orchestra's newly fashioned sphere, then slowing slowing down to gentle pressures, each note a drop of water falling under the weight of its own suspended tension.
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| Death and the Maiden - Lenkiewicz - source |
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| Death and the Maiden - Munch |
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| Death and the Maiden - Hans Baldung - source |
The work is scored for two flutes, two oboes, two clarinets in B-flat, two bassoons, four horns in F, two trumpets in F, three trombones (two tenor, one bass), timpani, solo piano, and strings.
The concerto follows the traditional form of three movements:
1. Allegro non troppo e molto maestoso – Allegro con spirito (B-flat minor – D-flat major – B-flat minor – A-flat major – ambiguous key – B-flat minor – B-flat major – ambiguous key – B-flat major)
2. Andantino semplice – Prestissimo (D-flat major – D minor – D-flat major)
3. Allegro con fuoco (B-flat minor – D-flat major – ambiguous key – B-flat minor – B-flat major)
A standard performance lasts between 30 and 35 minutes, the majority of which is taken up by the first movement.
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